Ship of Ruin Page 4

  A clang reverberated through the ship, and a light on the airlock control panel flashed, indicating the Fleet shuttle had hooked onto them.

  “Knights are rare,” Casmir said, bemused by the nineteen-year-old super soldier’s interest in the topic. Admittedly, they were the stuff of legend and fairy tale, having existed since the Kingdom’s founding, and highly romanticized. “And they’re closer to secret agents than soldiers. It would be surprising to find one on a random Fleet warship.”

  “Oh.” Qin scuffed her boot on the deck.

  “Besides,” Casmir said, hoping to distract her as Kim headed to the airlock hatch, “if one was there and force-boarded the Dragon, you’d have to fight him.”

  “That would be all right. I’m curious about their legendary fighting prowess.”

  Casmir tried not to think about the knight who’d given his life battling two crushers in order to buy him time to escape the university campus back home. “I thought you were curious about, uhm, romantic things.”

  “I just think knights sound terribly chivalrous and would treat a girl right. I don’t have many delusions about how romance works.” She sniffed.

  The hatch swung open, and two soldiers in blue combat armor walked out, one aiming a rifle around the cargo hold, one stopping in front of Kim. He looked her up and down, then handed her a bright yellow suit. It was bigger than her galaxy suit, which was on loan from Bonita, and a hood draped the helmet. Casmir recognized it as a hazmat suit, a higher level of protection than what Kim wore now, and his stomach flip-flopped, his concern rearing up again. It worried him that she was going somewhere that she might need that—he had been incredibly naive when he’d been thinking of going over there himself—but he was relieved that the military intended to treat her right, not like some criminal to be sacrificed.

  “You can put it on in our shuttle Scholar Sato,” the soldier said politely and led her into the airlock.

  The second soldier was gaping at Qin, who had her helmet off, revealing that she wasn’t quite human. He kept his rifle pointed at the deck, but he backed warily into the airlock with the others, his heel bumping the lip of the hatchway. Casmir almost joked that he wasn’t the only one who tripped on those things, but Bonita wasn’t there to hear it. And he wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

  As the hatch swung shut, Kim sent him a message that appeared on his contact display. Wish me luck.

  Of course, Casmir replied. And shalom, my friend.

  What’s the literal translation of that? Deep peace? That may be a stretch to find on a ship full of dead and quarantined people.

  Hence my wish that you find it anyway.

  “They’re departing,” Bonita said over the comm, “and the second shuttle is pulling in right after them. I feel like a gas station here.”

  “Just hope they don’t ask where you got your last fill-up,” Casmir said.

  “That’s the truth.”

  Qin gave him a concerned look as he walked to the airlock hatch. “Do you need a bodyguard?”

  Either he looked like he was going to pass out, or she really wanted to see a knight.

  “Very likely, but I’m going to do my best not to mention you or the captain, in the hope they’ll forget about our actions on Forseti. It’ll be hard not to mention you if you’re along.”

  “I can stay quiet and keep my helmet on.”

  “They’d take your gun away, and you wouldn’t be happy.” He gave her armored sleeve a thump. “Thank you for offering, though. I’m glad you’re not irritated with me for, uhm, sort of tricking you into telling me about the bounty.”

  She studied the deck as the airlock light flashed again. “I was just upset at having to choose loyalties. I knew we weren’t… that it wasn’t right, but—”

  “I know. You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’ve never been in the military, but I know that loyalty is important there.”

  “I think it’s important everywhere, isn’t it?” Qin cocked her head. “You said you lead a robotics team. Are they not loyal to you?”

  “Well, nobody’s stabbed me between my shoulder blades and tried to patent one of my inventions behind my back, but civilians are a little harder to wrangle. You have to convince them that they really want to do what you need them to do. That it’s good for them. And rewarding.”

  “Sounds like a lot of work.”

  “It is.” He grinned, but then the hatch opened and four armed and armored men stomped out, and he sobered quickly.

  Zee strode up behind him, and Casmir realized he hadn’t given him a command to stay on the Dragon. The crusher might assume he needed to come to protect him. Casmir looked wishfully over his shoulder, especially since he had a feeling he might need some protection. Kim had only garnered two armed soldiers, after all. And they’d brought her fancy clothes. He got four rifles pointed at his chest and no proffers of gifts.

  Zee stomped in front of him, and the soldiers almost fired.

  “It’s all right,” Casmir blurted, raising his hands. “He’s—” He was on the verge of saying not coming, but he realized two things. First, he might be able to get away with bringing Zee. Second, Bonita didn’t truly have a reason to stick around, beyond a vague notion of profiting from finding the gate, and she might prefer it if there was nothing keeping her from making a getaway. “He’s my personal assistant robot,” Casmir finished. “He has the footage that Captain Ishii asked for.”

  Casmir also had the footage copied onto his chip, but no need to mention that.

  The soldiers exchanged dubious looks, and he was sure they were muttering to each other over their helmet comms.

  “Ishii said he wants the footage wiped after he sees it,” Casmir added. “The only way to do that is to bring Zee along.”

  “Captain Ishii,” one of the men growled, looking like he wanted to point his rifle at Casmir’s chest again.

  Alas, Zee was big enough and broad enough to do an effective job of blocking the soldiers.

  “I’m not in the military,” Casmir pointed out. “Not only am I not required to call him by his rank, but I could whisper his nickname from robotics camp into your ears.”

  One ordered, “Get in the airlock,” without humor as another sidled close and whispered, “I’ll give you twenty crowns for that information.”

  “You can keep the crowns if you slip me a wrench, a magnet, and a piece of gum after your captain throws me in the brig.”

  “Because… you can use them to escape?”

  “Nah, that’s silly. But magnets are entertaining, and gum helps keep the saliva flowing if you’re deprived of water.”

  Three out of the four soldiers snorted. They weren’t exactly guffaws of laughter, but at least their rifles weren’t pointing at Casmir or Zee now.

  “What about the wrench?”

  “Ssh, don’t waste his time,” another said as the lock cycled. “I want to know the captain’s nickname. And when did you know him? Did he really go to robotics camp? That’s so dorky.” He snickered and poked Casmir in the arm. “If you tell us, I’ll bring you a cupcake when you get thrown in the brig.”

  “I’m pretending I’m not hearing any of this,” the grumpy soldier muttered as they walked through the tube toward the shuttle.

  “Oh, like you don’t want to know, Sergeant.”

  “He did go to robotics camp,” Casmir said. “We were ten, and his nickname was Queenie, because win or lose, he couldn’t get through a chess game without sacrificing his queen.”

  “Queenie?” one of the men blurted with a giggle as the hatch to their shuttle opened.

  Casmir came face to face with Captain Ishii. A scowling Captain Ishii. The giggle cut off as if the man had been garroted.

  “Ah, hello, Sora,” Casmir said. “I didn’t realize you would come to pick me up personally.”

  “Clearly.” Ishii folded his arms over his chest, which might have been intimidating if he’d been any taller than Casmir, but they were the same below-average height.
“I see your growth spurt wasn’t any more impressive than mine,” Ishii growled.

  “There was a spurt? I think I slept through mine.”

  “I bet. What is that, Dabrowski?” Ishii pointed at Zee, who was looming impressively at Casmir’s shoulder.

  “That is one of the robot monsters that killed Friedrich,” someone said from one of the shuttle’s seats.

  Casmir recognized his telltale armor and purple cloak as the man lurched to his feet and reached for the weapon hanging at his belt, thick brown hair swinging around his shoulders.

  “No, this is one I made.” Casmir held up a hand and stepped in front of Zee. He would trust the crusher to handle himself against the soldiers in armor, but the knight’s pertundo and its mysterious piercing and cutting technology might seriously damage Zee. “To protect me from the ones that attacked Sir Friedrich. Did you know him? He tried to give me a message, but there wasn’t enough time for it all. I don’t suppose you…”

  Casmir trailed off because the knight was glowering at him as much as he was at Zee. He was young but didn’t look naive. He had angular features made more pronounced by a short beard and mustache and looked to be twice Casmir’s weight—all in muscle.

  “Want to question you?” the knight finished his sentence with an eyebrow quirk. “Yes, I do. And so does the captain.”

  Ishii nodded once, a pleased glint in his eyes.

  “Will drugs be involved?” Casmir asked, wondering if he was truly going to get a chance to clear his name, or if these men would devise a way to cause him to incriminate himself further. Ishii had been a clever ten-year-old, and Casmir didn’t imagine that had changed much. Maybe he had been naive in volunteering to come to the military, but what choice did he have? He wanted to go home, and he hadn’t had any luck figuring out who was after him yet. He couldn’t flee forever, not if he wanted his life back, his work and his projects and his friends and his parents.

  His adoptive parents, yes, but he’d never known any others, and they had always loved and supported him. His father’s birthday was coming up, and Casmir and his uncles always got him gag gifts, much to his mother’s horror. She always gave him something respectful and proper. Casmir was convinced his father preferred the goofy things, including the ambulatory soap dispenser he’d made that dispensed soap everywhere except into one’s hands. Casmir had never missed his father’s birthday, and he didn’t want to start now.

  “Oh yes,” Ishii said. “Several kinds of drugs, I should think.”

  “Goodie,” Casmir murmured as the shuttle departed, heading for the ominous black spear of a warship. He tried not to think about Kim’s admonition that the truth drugs might knock his brain cells out of alignment or how he would look convulsing on the deck at Ishii’s feet.

  Yas stared at the display as the shuttle settled onto hard snow, deep inside a dim canyon full of spikes of ice that appeared to be natural formations. If not for the headlights, he wouldn’t have seen the frosty metal structure almost entirely buried in the side of a glacier in front of them. Since Skadi was one of the farthest bodies from the sun in the solar system, little sun reached it, especially down here. Yas wasn’t sure how deep the canyon was, but they had descended a long time before reaching the bottom. A thousand meters? Two? At least.

  “I can’t believe you found it, Captain,” Jess blurted, unbuckling her straps.

  Rache looked over his shoulder from the pilot’s seat, though of course, his expression wasn’t visible through his mask.

  “I mean, I figured you would,” Jess amended, “but not on only the fourth try.”

  Was that all it had been? Yas’s butt was numb, and he felt like they’d been flying forever. He’d dozed off more than once, and his stomach growled.

  But Rache didn’t suggest anyone partake in a leisurely lunch. He stood, tapping his chest control so that his helmet snapped over his head, and grabbed an oxygen tank from a rack on the wall.

  “Check your suits,” he said, talking over Yas’s and Jess’s heads to the combat men in the rows behind them, “and take a look around. Scans don’t show any life forms, but they also can’t penetrate the metal in the hull of that ship.” Rache waved at the buried structure.

  A ship? It could have been anything under all that ice.

  “There could still be archaeologists in there,” Rache added. “Or the people who killed the archaeologists.”

  “Do we shoot to kill, Captain?” Chaplain patted his rifle lovingly.

  “Defend yourselves with deadly force if necessary,” Rache said, “but try to take someone alive if we meet a team. I have more questions than answers, at this juncture.”

  Yas wasn’t sure whether or not to be glad he wasn’t the only one.

  “Dr. Peshlakai, Chief Khonsari,” Rache said, grabbing a rifle out of the armory cabinet, “stay here for now. If there’s a need, I’ll call you in once we’ve secured the ruin.”

  “Gladly,” Yas said, as Jess made a noise of protest.

  “Captain, is that an ancient Earth ship?” she asked. “Don’t you think I’d be more useful in there than Chaplain and Chains?”

  Chaplain hadn’t put his helmet up yet, and he flashed his metal fangs at her.

  Jess was too focused on Rache to notice.

  “We’ll secure it first, Chief,” Rache said firmly but not as coolly as he might have to someone else who questioned him. “Then you can come in and rub your hands on the engines.”

  “You know how to get a girl excited, Captain.”

  “Disgusting,” one of the men muttered.

  “I can get girls excited too,” one said more forlornly.

  Yas barely heard them. He was gaping at Jess, surprised and a little distressed that she would flirt with Rache. Did he ever flirt back? Something about that notion was alarming.

  Rache didn’t acknowledge the comment.

  “Put your helmets up,” he told the men, then reached for the hatch controls. “We’ll leave the shuttle running, but it’s cold enough out there to freeze your ears off in seconds.”

  Yas complied even though he wasn’t going outside and the comment probably wasn’t for him. The men exited into an airlock chamber before stepping out onto the frozen moon. The display showed frosty bullets of snow skidding sideways through the forest of stalagmite-like ice formations. In their black combat armor, the men were imposing figures striding toward the wreck, but the moon itself seemed far more forbidding and dangerous.

  Yas was tempted to ask Jess if she’d ever had a relationship with Rache, but that was definitely none of his business. Instead, he eyed the navigation control panel while realizing this was the first time he’d been left alone—mostly alone—with a means of escaping the mercenaries.

  “Can you fly a shuttle?” he asked Jess casually, though his heart rate sped up, beats thundering through his body, at the mere thought of slipping away.

  Unfortunately, they couldn’t leave without stranding Rache and his fighters down here. Yas didn’t want to do that—if Rache escaped, he’d likely come after Yas and kill him in the most horrific manner—but he couldn’t help but think about how badly he wanted to go home, clear his name, and get his old life back. A life where he’d been respected and had helped good people, not thugs and murderers.

  “Well enough to get one in and out of the repair bay,” Jess said.

  “Well enough to get it out of a canyon and to a station somewhere?”

  Jess gave Yas a frank look. “First off, no, these shuttles don’t have the range to get far. Second, of all the men in the Twelve Systems you might betray without repercussions, Rache would not go on that list. He saved your ass, Doctor. And you agreed to his five years. I was there, remember? You almost spilled my coffee when you collapsed at our feet.”

  Yas closed his eyes, the memories of terror still hot and fresh in his mind. “I remember, but I didn’t know who he was when I agreed to that. It’s like working for the devil. You hear how cavalierly he said it was all right to kill any
archaeologists they might find in there? Oh, except one that he wants kept alive for questioning. I was desperate and didn’t have time to think.”

  “You want out of that deal, then reason with him and try to make a bargain. Don’t screw him over, or it’ll be the last thing you do.”

  Yas dropped his head into his palm. “I know. But would he be reasonable? I always feel like I’m on thin ice with him. And you said he likes me.” Yas laughed shortly.

  “Nah, I said he told the men not to kill you. Could just be that doctors are useful.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  “I don’t think he likes anyone, but the only time I’ve seen him be illogical is when he’s pursuing his revenge. He’s a little mad when it comes to the Kingdom and Jager.”

  “No kidding. You have any idea why?”

  “Nope. Like I said, he doesn’t talk to the crew.” Jess hopped to her feet and headed past the tiny mess and lavatory and into the engine compartment. “I better earn my pay and run a maintenance check on the shuttle while we wait.”

  “Is that why you’re here? The pay?” Yas followed her partway back and poked into a cabinet for a ready-meal. “Or did you also make a deal with the devil out of desperation?”

  “I’ll admit my head wasn’t in the best place when I joined,” Jess said, “and it still isn’t all of the time.”

  Yas wondered if, since they were alone together, he should bring up her relationship with trylochanix. Maybe offer to help her wean herself off it and find some less addictive alternatives.

  “I actually hired Rache,” she went on. “That’s how we first met. I was recovering from some injuries…”

  “The injuries that resulted in you having more than a few cybernetic bits and a brain that’s half circuitry?”

  Jess leaned out the door and grimaced at him, and he wished he’d asked more delicately. The mercenaries were all so blunt and cavalier about everything that it seemed the way to broach things with them.

  “Yes. Star Strider terrorists attacked our hab in System Geryon when I was home visiting my family. My brother and parents were miners—almost everyone that lives in Shiva Habitat is—working on pulling ore out of Pushya, and admittedly not worrying too much about defacing the planet. It’s an ugly hunk of rock. It’s not like we were destroying life or even a ruggedly appealing landscape. Anyway, some politics and arguing and negotiations had been going on, but I’d been out on the soccer tour, where I was playing professionally at the time, so I wasn’t that aware of how bad things had gotten. I happened to be home for a visit when the Strider terrorists decided they were tired of negotiating and wanted to make a statement. Because they were upset that humanity was mining planets, they blew a hole the size of a moon in the side of our hab. My parents and my brother didn’t make it. I almost didn’t make it either. Some doctor recognized me and figured I’d have the money to pay for surgery, I guess, since he’d seen me play and knew I had sponsors and the like. He did all this.” She waved at her eyes and lifted her cybernetic hand. “Then gave me the bill afterward.”